


"Please don't leave me"

by Michael Alexander (MistressOakdown)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: F/M, My lil Kentucky Fried Chicken baby needs love too, Some soft Crispy!Master for you all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:14:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21543604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressOakdown/pseuds/Michael%20Alexander
Summary: A short Crispy!Master/Reader thing I sent to my girlfriend's blog @iwouldfuckthemaster on Tumblr. Set around 'The Deadly Assassin', not 'Keeper of Traken'.
Relationships: The Master (Pratt)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	"Please don't leave me"

The Doctor said you’d left him. He said that he’d shown you what he’d become and you were _disgusted_. He said you were gone, and never coming back. You, the only human he’s ever cared about, the human that wrapped him in her arms and held him during his panic attack after the Keller Machine attacked him, the girl he _loved_ , had abandoned him.

So when you suddenly ran in the room, your soft eyes landing on his decrepit form, he thought that it might be the last snap before he shut down completely. You ran over to him, and he wanted _so badly_ to wipe your tears away, but he didn’t want to put his disgusting skin against your beautiful face. So when you took his hand _of your own accord_ and brought it up against your cheek, he thought he may break. If he still even had the ability to cry, he knew he’d be melting down. Your watery eyes met his, and he noticed that there wasn’t a single _ounce_ of fear in them, only pain, worry, concern, and… **love**.

You re-positioned his hand so that his fingers were against her temple, and he immediately knew what that meant. He gently slipped into your mind, just as he used to when the two of you relaxed together before, back when he was still nicely trimmed goatees and black Nehru suits. He saw you wince, the immense pain he was feeling seeping slightly into your mind. He was blocking as much as he could, but it was so intense that it was hard to completely control. A tear rolled down your cheek and he started to pull away, but you put your smaller hand against his burnt one, holding it to your face.

You closed your eyes and focused on sending feelings his way, just as he taught you before. You sent him feelings of gentleness, comfort, happiness, warmth, and most importantly, _pure, unadulterated **love**. _You could feel his mind wrapping around yours, yet it felt less like a dominating force and more like a cling, like a victim holding onto their savior desperately. Through the pain, you could hear four repeating words, the syllables almost matching the incessant drum beat.

_‘Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me, **please don’t leave me.’**_

Another tear rolled down your cheek as you gave him the best smile you could, before slowly disconnecting your minds and bringing his hand to your mouth, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his charred skin.

“I love you, Master. I always will. I will _never_ leave you.” You said to him, your voice as solid as it could be considering your crying. As he felt your soft lips against his ruined skin, the gentle way your small hand fit in his, he knew that no matter what happened, even if he had finally run his course and he were to truly die, he could die happy.


End file.
